


Look Who I Found

by NerineLunaCyran



Category: Glee, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Eventual Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Kurt Hummel and Stiles Stilinski are Cousins, Lydia Martin is Part of the Pack, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, POV Derek Hale, Post-Nogitsune, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:52:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1940007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerineLunaCyran/pseuds/NerineLunaCyran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events surrounding the Nogitsune, Derek once again leaves Beacon Hills. He needs some space, so peace and quiet to think and get his mind back on track. He figured New York has served him well enough in the past, so that's where he goes. What he doesn't count on, however, is seeing Stiles every couple of days. Until it turns out it isn't really Stiles at all.</p>
<p>---<br/>Focus of the story is mostly on the Teen Wolf side of things. Knowledge of Glee not absolutely required, although at least some basic knowledge would probably make the fic more interesting to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fic came about because I kept mistaking photo shoot pictures of Dylan and Chris for the other, and then I started wondering what would happen if Derek mistook Kurt for Stiles, and then I realised Derek had canonically been in New York before so it wasn't even that much of a crazy idea and- Well, you know, one thing led to another, and this fic was born. I hope you guys like it!

Derek sighed, and pointedly looked away. It wasn’t the first time his mind was playing this trick on him. Ever since he had gone back to New York - to figure things out, he kept reminding himself, he definitely wasn’t fleeing. Fleeing was a thing of cowards, and a Hale was not a coward.

No, seeing things was not new. Who he was seeing, however, was. Last time it had been his family, this time it appeared to be Stiles. Stiles, wearing plaid, one of his hoodies - although he hadn’t seen him in his favourite red one yet - and even the occasional jacket.

Sometimes he wondering why it was Stiles he saw, and not one of the others he had gotten to know in Beacon Hills. Stiles, the totally non-werewolf, human teenager; when last time it had been his parents, his sister, his family.

Whenever his mind went in that direction though, he quickly pushed the thoughts away. (It was just because the boy had the habit of worming his way into where he was not supposed to go, even if that was Derek’s mind.)

Derek looked back, and true to form, the image of Stiles was gone again.

 

The next time Derek’s mind decided to show him Stiles was at the subway station. He appeared on the other side of the platform, typing away on his phone - as Derek has seen him do so often, back in Beacon Hills - and occasionally looked back up from his phone to look around, as if searching for someone.

The third time he looked up his gaze stopped right at him, and he quirked an eyebrow. Derek quickly looked away, and immediately scolded himself. There was no reason to start feeling self-conscious about a freaking figment of his imagination.

When he looked back, Stiles was once more gone. He couldn’t quite decide if that made him feel relieved or annoyed.

He groaned. He needed to find something to distract him, and fast. Those images of Stiles were a lot more detailed than the vague impressions of his family had been the last time.

And no, he didn’t want to think too hard about what that meant.

 

Six days later it was a coffee shop. Derek didn’t usually come to coffee shops, much preferring his own homemade coffee and the comfort of his own apartment, but his coffee machine had died on him that morning and he desperately needed his morning coffee. It wasn’t so much a caffeine dependency - after all, caffeine didn’t do much for a werewolf, in the same way they couldn’t get drunk on alcohol - as it was a dependency on schedule and routine. He was used to start his day with coffee, so he was going to start his day with coffee. Even if it meant going to the coffee shop five blocks away.

When he sat down with his coffee and a croissant - ordering just a coffee had seemed wrong somehow, and even if the thing was ridiculously overpriced, it wasn’t as if he needed to worry about money anyway - he saw him sitting on the other side of the room. He wondered absently why his mind had decided on showing him Stiles right now, seeing as he had never seen him in a setting like this before. He didn’t think Beacon Hills even had a coffee shop. He quickly realised trying to question his own mind was pretty useless though, especially this early in the morning.

Stiles - the figment of his imagination, he kept reminding himself - lifted and eyebrow before smiling at him over his cup of coffee, and Derek couldn’t help but flinch.

It was too much like the old Stiles, before the Nogitsune and all the trauma that had caused. Too much like the Stiles he knew was gone. After everything that had happened, none of them could go back to how things were before, back when the rest of his pack had been normal, innocent teenagers. And if Derek was completely honest with himself, he could even admit that was a big part of the reason why he left this time.

He was supposed to be the alpha, the one who had everything under control and was able to lead the rest of them. Instead, he had been next to useless, and utterly unable to keep his pack - and the rest of Beacon Hills - safe at all. He had failed them, had failed himself, and had felt it was in everyone’s best interest for him to just leave for a while.

He was never supposed to be the alpha in the first place, it was always supposed to be Laura who would eventually take over from their mom. Scott was a True Alpha, he would probably be able to unite and lead the remaining werewolves - and other supernaturally inclined members of Beacon Hills, because let’s be real, they hadn’t been ‘just werewolves’ for quite some time - way better than he ever could. This was best for everyone.

So why was he still feeling so miserable?

When Derek looked back up again, Stiles was leaving the coffee shop. Leaving Derek behind, just as Derek had left him behind. He sighed. It was a fitting image for his mind to come up with, he supposed.

He finished off his coffee - a cappuccino with caramel swirl, something Laura had gotten him hooked on when the two of them had been living in New York - before looking at the table where he had seen Stiles. There was nothing special about the table, positioned against the back wall, and empty coffeecup standing lonely in the middle.

Derek picked up his own empty cup to put away before abruptly looking back at the table. An empty cup. If his mind was just messing with him, if Stiles had just been a figment of his imagination, there shouldn’t be an empty cup on that table.

His own cup slipped from his hands, the sound of it clattering against the table attracting curious glances from the other patrons. But Derek didn’t pay them any attention, not even fully noticing, and stalked over to the table on the other side of the room, his eyes fixed on the cup.

He gingerly picked it up, not quite believing his own senses. It still felt warm, and he could even smell the drink that had been in it. Or at least, he thought so. Was he finally going crazy?

He turned to the middle-aged woman sitting at the next table, who was already looking at him as if she was trying to figure out if she should be afraid of him or not.

“Was there someone sitting here? Just now, was there a guy sitting here?”

She frowned, now definitely looking wary. “Yes? Young man, early 20s I think.”

Derek didn’t even reply before storming out of the coffee shop. He had not been going crazy at all. He was not imagining things. But if it had actually been Stiles, if it had all been really him- He needed to find him, needed to figure out why Stiles was in New York. And why he had never come to him.

The Stiles he knew would have been all up in his space, not caring that they didn’t even actually know each other that well. Had recent events really changed him that much?

Derek frantically scanned the crowd of people walking across the street for any sight of Stiles, but there were just too many people for him to spot anyone in particular. He switched over to his other senses, trying to catch Stiles’ scent, but once again, the crowdedness of New York got in the way. There were too many smells for him to really get a lock on any of them.

As a last resort, he tried to feel Stiles through their pack bond, but he could barely find their connection. He tried to find the other connections, but they were even weaker, practically non-existent unless he focused completely.

That’s when it hit him. He had left his pack behind, abandoned them. He was no longer an actual part of their pack. He shouldn’t even have been able to feel the weak connections. He was alone, practically an omega.

Now that he had fully realised his situation, he felt the loneliness creeping through him. Alone. He hadn’t truly felt alone anymore in a long time. It had been seven years since the fire. Seven years since he had last felt this sudden huge loneliness, the connections to his pack suddenly ripped from him.

He ran back to his apartment, his werewolf reflexes the only reason he didn’t crash into anyone. Once inside, he finally let his inner wolf take over, and howled, not caring about what any neighbours might think. Howled for everyone he’d lost through his own mistakes. His family, because he was stupid enough to trust Kate, and his new pack, because he was unable to act like a proper alpha and left them behind.

He kept messing up, kept putting the people he cared about in danger. No wonder Stiles didn’t want to speak with him.


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken almost two weeks before Derek left his apartment again. Two weeks in which he had barely eaten, barely even come out of bed.

Multiple times he had had his phone in his hands, debating whether or not he should call someone, send a message. In the end, he always put it back down again. They were probably better off without him, and Stiles had seen him made it clear he didn’t care much for actual contact. He would respect that, would respect his decision, even though it hurt.

Now, he was finally outside again, trying to get back into the rhythm of a normal life. He had come across Stiles a couple of times, sometimes on his own, sometimes with a group of other people, although Derek had never seen Scott or any of the others from Beacon Hills. He often wondered if Stiles had left Beacon Hills, the memories to painful, same as he had done.

Whenever he saw him, Derek tended to follow him for a bit. Not too obvious of course, and he always kept his distance, but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to make sure he was okay.

It was during one of those instances, that Derek was finally confronted by one of Stiles’ new friends. He had followed Stiles, accompanied by a girl - and since when was Stiles’ good friends with girls anyway - into what appeared to be a gay bar. Not much later, they were joined by another two guys, one of them dressed in something that could have come straight out of a gay parade. Not that Derek was judging of course, it just figured that Stiles would have become friends with this guy. Derek clearly remembered the group of drag queens Stiles had made friends with back in Beacon Hills.

The girl had been looking over at him a few times, and had been engaged in conversation with one of the other guys, glancing back over at him occasionally. Eventually Stiles seemed to have noticed as well, because he too looked over at him, before looking back to his friends and shaking his head. The guy in the glittery jacket seemed to ask him something, because Stiles nodded, and he looked back over to the girl, who nodded as well.

When the two of them walked towards him, Derek quickly debated whether to sit up straight or slouch down more. In the end, he settled on slouching down in his seat, hiding behind his drink. He wasn’t there to intimidate anyone.

“He’s taken,” the girl says when she’s standing in front of him.

Derek, who had just taken a sip of his drink, almost chokes on it. Of everything he had expected them to say, this was not it. “I’m not, I mean, I don’t-”

“Why are you following him?” she cut him off. “And don’t pretend like you haven’t, we’ve all seen you.”

Derek downs his drink before answering, buying himself a little more time. Apparently, Stiles hadn’t told them about him. “I’m sorry. If he doesn’t want to see me, I can go.”

“Not what she asked,” the guy replied, stepping in front of Derek when he stood up. “Why are you following him?”

Derek easily sidestepped him, walking away. “Ask him.”

He was already halfway across the street when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He could have easily avoided it, shrugged the hand off, but he was just too tired. Too tired of being alone, of keeping his distance, of closing himself off.

He turned around, and instead of the two that had confronted him earlier, he was suddenly eye to eye with Stiles. Only, something wasn’t quite right. He looked like Stiles, but now that he was actually looking, something was off. His posture was different, and his eyes- his eyes weren’t as guarded as they had been for a long time now.

“What happened to you?” Derek asked, frowning. This wasn’t the Stiles he had left behind in Beacon Hills. He fervently hoped Stiles hadn’t managed to be possessed for a second time.

“Excuse me?” the guy answered, and Derek unconsciously took a step back. The voice was different too. Close, but not quite close enough. “I just wanted to say you didn’t have to run off like that. I don’t know what they said to you, but I didn’t mean to tell you to go away.”

Derek stood frozen in place, unable to answer the guy in front of him, unable to even move. All this time, all this confusion and now, now it turned out he had been wrong?

The other two now caught up with them, along with the second guy. He looked at him, before turning his attention to the guy Derek had thought was Stiles, and laying a hand on his shoulder. “Kurt, what’s going on?”

Derek swallowed. Kurt, not Stiles.

“You’re not- You’re not him, are you?” he finally managed to ask, his throat feeling constricted, his voice barely more than a whisper.

The four of them were now looking at him in various degrees of concern or confusion, but Derek only had eyes for one of them.

“Who did you think I was?” Kurt asked, his voice soft, as if he’s afraid Derek will break. He hates it, hates feeling vulnerable.

“Stiles,” he finally managed to get out, his voice still a bit rough. “I thought you were Stiles.”

“What kind of name is Stiles?” the guy with the glitter jacket asked, grinning. Derek immediately turned towards him, ready to defend Stiles and his name choice, but was beaten by the girl.

“Says the one who named himself Starchild,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

The guy clearly wanted to reply, but their attention was pulled back to Kurt by a whispered “Kurt, are you okay?”

“Stiles,” Kurt whispered, looking at Derek, seemingly as frozen in place as Derek had been mere minutes before. “What’s his last name?”

Derek frowned. “Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski.”

Suddenly all the rigidness seemed to flow out of Kurt, and he sagged against the guy next to him - who Derek assumed was his boyfriend, based on the ‘he’s taken’ comment from before. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly open, he looked so vulnerable, so much like Stiles’ had looked just after the Nogitsune had left him, that Derek automatically reached towards him, trying to help.

Kurt’s boyfriend immediately turned towards him and snapped out a “Stay back.”

“Blaine, don’t,” Kurt said, grabbing the guys shoulder, shaking his head. “Not his fault.”

Derek quickly glanced over to the other two, trying to figure out what was going on, but they seemed just as confused as him. While the guy seemed patient enough to just wait until someone started explaining, the girl clearly wasn’t.

“Kurt, what’s going on? ‘Cause I was looking forward to a night of dancing, and instead I’m standing here outside in the cold. So you know, an explanation would be nice.”

“Sorry Santana, I’m afraid we’re not going to be going out tonight,” Kurt said, making an attempt at a smile. Derek could easily see it wasn’t genuine though, and he supposed the others could too. “Do you have time? I’d like to talk to you, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Derek, who figured he didn’t really have anything better to do - and was, if he was being honest, also quite curious about Kurt - nodded.

“Great. Thank you,” Kurt replied, sending him what seemed to be a genuine smile. “There’s a decent diner three blocks from here. We can go there.”

“You want to ditch a perfect night of going out for our workplace?” the girl, Santana, asked.

Kurt chuckled. “Feel free to stay here. But if you want that explanation, I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us.”

After that, she didn’t protest too much though, clearly wanting to know what was going on. And so Derek found himself wandering the streets of New York with a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone who looked almost exactly like Stiles, but wasn’t him.

At least nobody could ever claim his life was boring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this still makes sense to you all. Like Kurt said, next chapter will have an explanation, but if you are really confused about anything feel free to leave a comment :)


End file.
